


In the Shadow of the Light

by pantsoffdanceoff



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breathplay, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Infidelity, Laura Moon/Robbie Burton, Laura Moon/Shadow Moon - Freeform, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 03:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12572772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantsoffdanceoff/pseuds/pantsoffdanceoff
Summary: Laura and Audrey, before and after.





	In the Shadow of the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [within_a_dream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/gifts).



> Warning: features pet death (canonical death of Laura's cat)

By the time she's pulling off the highway, Laura is barely still paying attention the voice in her ear. She pulls away the phone. 15:14 says the screen, and Audrey doesn't sound like she's stopping anytime soon.

"Mmhmm," says Laura, making the left turn.

The roads of Eagle Point are as still as a tomb.

"Well, I bet Shadow's never done anything like that," says Audrey.

Laura stalls, trying to remember what the topic du joir is. "Well," she says.

"Ugh, I bet you forgive him anyway." Audrey's noise of disgust scratches staticky as Laura shoulders open the door. It always sticks. "Young love."

Inside, stretched across the kitchen floor, is Dummy, cold as ice and just as still.

"Fuck," says Laura.

A ringing starts up in her ears. Audrey's voice is coming away from somewhere distant, saying _What, was it something I said? Laura, you there?_

Fuck you, Dummy.

The phone goes clattering away against the floor.

* * *

Audrey sweeps into the house like a hurricane.

"Shut up," she says, and "Sit down. Drink that."

It's almost comforting, not having to think, following orders like a marionette. Or it is until Hurricane Audrey blows back out the door.

Laura sits alone in the dark, with only the voice of cartoon voice actors, all long dead, to keep her company.

By the time she returns, washing her hands at the kitchen sink, the wine's gone warm. Laura turns it in her hands, wondering if she can see the dirt rinsing off Audrey's hands or not.

"He's got a great view, you know?" says Audrey, "Set him facing the sex shop, where he can watch all the other dudes getting their jollies off. Did I ever tell you about the time he tried to hump my leg?"

Laura lets out an ugly laugh.

"Could have saved myself the neutering fees," she says.

Except she fails so badly at keeping her voice steady Audrey silent holds her arms out for a hug. Audrey says, "Come on, bitch. One time offer."

It's warm in Audrey's arms, surprisingly comfortable against her stupid, scratchy sweater. Laura says to it, "I didn't even like that stupid cat."

Audrey snorts a laugh that tickles her ear.

Laura shivers.

And like that, a switch turns over in the room. One minute they're friends hugging. The next, they're not.

She doesn't know who moves first, pressing lips against warm lips. It sparks warmth down her spine, the heady smell of the last of Audrey's perfume, the scrape of Audrey's nails against her scalp. Their mouths slot together, the curve of Audrey's head perfect against Laura's palm.

A branch clatters against the window.

They jump, still stuck together like a kid's hand in the cookie jar. Laura shuts her eyes and tries to take a calming breath. She breathes in more of Audrey's Chanel instead. "I can't," she tells the dark veins in the flooring. "I'm drunk and my cat died." Her tongue ghosts across the taste of Audrey's lipstick. She adds, guiltily, "And I'm waiting for Shadow."

When she gathers the courage to look up, Audrey's eyes are searing hot, burning holes in Laura's lips.

Laura's stomach swoops.

There are bad ideas, and then--Laura waits until she catches Audrey's eye, and then slowly runs her tongue against her bottom lip--there are bad ideas.

This time, there's no mistaking who initiates.

Laura slides her hand against Audrey's jaw, crowding even closer to her, smooth skin stretch over a gamine jaw.

"Oh, don't you treat me like I'm porcelain too," snaps Audrey, like she can read Laura's mind.

Laura's palm connects with a satisfying slap across Audrey's cheek.

She has a moment to be stunned, at her own daring, at Audrey's potential anger, and then Audrey laughs and crowds her against the fridge. She bites at Laura's lip, growling when Laura gives as good at she gets, until Laura's lips feel beestung and Audrey jerks away.

"It's Robbie," says Audrey, looking as wild-eyed as Laura feels. Laura tries to sneak another kiss until she registers Audrey's phone in her hand, still ringing. "I've got to go."

* * *

The screen door barely slams shut before Laura is stumbling into bed, pressing one thumb against her stinging lip and the other furiously against her clit until she gets off. Twice.

* * *

The cold light of morning is like a bucket of cold water. It's not just Dummy. It's Shadow and her ten-year friendship with Audrey.

"It's a one-time thing," she tells herself in the mirror, using twice as much concealer as usual. It's just a one-time thing. She repeats the mantra to herself all day, in the car, at work.

She barely parks the car in the garage before Audrey appears, right by her driver door. Laura panics.

"It's just a one-time thing," she blurts.

"Sure it is," says Audrey, tugging down the neck of Laura's shirt to admire the ring of hickeys she'd left.

They lose their clothes on the way from the garage. Shirts, shoes--Laura gets one firm grab of Audrey's gloriously laced bra before it gets tossed over their heads.

She gasps as her back hits a wall--or no, wait, that's glass.

That's her glass-paneled back door, with a clear line of sight into Audrey's back yard and Audrey's house, where her husband is at home.

Laura moans. She barely has time to gasp, "Do it, yeah, do it" before Audrey's pushing aside her sopping wet panties and replacing it with her hand.

* * *

They have a one-time thing. And then they have another.

Against walls, on the couch, on the kitchen table, and one memorable time before they made it fully into Laura's hot tub.

The high only lasts as long as the afterglow.

The next day, she's back at the casino, a regular cog in Eagle Point well-oiled machine. Clock in, clock out. Pay days, bills, dishes, laundry. Even the calls from the Woodward prison are as precise as clockwork.

Laura calls in sick one day, just to change up the routine.

She eats cereal in bed, leaves the dirty dishes in the sink and spends an hour in the hot tub at noon, just because she can.

The novelty wears off before the water even cools.

Puttering around the house, she dials the Burton household on a whim, only to remember Audrey has yoga on Tuesdays.

She's about to hang up when Robbie picks up.

"Hey," says Laura, wracking her brains. "Didn't know you were home."

He sounds equally flustered. "Yeah, it's my day off. You looking for Audrey?"

Yes, she wants to say. But there's an idea already percolating in her head. "No, I was wondering if you could come over--" She glances around. Sink? Pipe? Light? "To change a light?"

Robbie hesitates, but he's knocking on her door five minutes later.

"Just a minute!" calls Laura.

She struggles on the golden dress, the one Shadow says makes her tits look fantastic. It affects other men just as well, if the way Robbie's eyes keep darting towards them means anything.

"It just stopped working," says Laura, watching Robbie's shirt lift as he reaches for the hallway light. Underneath, muscles cord and stretch.

The light goes on. Robbie's hand is still frozen on it, his eyebrows crinkled together like he's trying to figure out why it was half-unscrewed instead of broken.

Laura helps him out.

"What a handy man," she says, sliding smoothly to her knees. She reaches for his fly. "How can I ever thank you?

His mouth is saying, "Laura, what are you--" but his dick is more honest, firming up in her hand.

No man has ever said no to her mouth.

* * *

Pavlov has his dogs. Laura has her phone.

It's much more fun waiting for the phone to ring these days.

* * *

Laura dozes while Audrey flips through channels. Laura wishes her luck--she's never bothered paying for more than the basics.

Her phone rings.

Audrey snorts at the way Laura's head pops up. "That eager for your husband to call?" The TV cycles through images almost faster than Laura can follow. Laura squints at the caller ID.

"No, it's yours," she says. Audrey frowns.

Laura bites her lip, wondering if the feeling shivering through her is fear or excitement. "Probably wondering where you are."

Audrey groans and answers.

* * *

Laura's seen this porno before.

Two women in a hot tub and, oops, one of them loses their bikini. Miles of wet skin, half hidden by bubbles--Laura can see the appeal.

She looks up at the stars, Audrey's long fingers gently stretching her open.

Problem with pornos, Laura decides, is no one talks about how boring they are.

She grabs a handful of Audrey's hair and pulls.

Audrey yelps. "What the hell was that for?"

Laura yanks again, and gets her hands pinned against the plastic walls of the Jacuzzi for her troubles. Audrey looms over her, all gleaming skin and a look that spells nothing but trouble. Laura shivers.

"What if I just felt like it?" says Laura.

Audrey bites down on her collarbone in response, a bright burst of pain that makes Laura's hips buck up. She tries to find friction, but Audrey just leans away smoothly, biting rings of bruises down the swell of her breast, just close enough to her nipple to tease. Laura twists in Audrey's grip, arching into every bite.

"Oh yeah?" says Audrey, "How are you going to make it up to me?"

Laura squirms, about to burst into flames. "Please, let me go down on you."

"Tempting," says Audrey against the meat of her shoulder before she bites down. Laura cries out. "But what happens if you slip and drown?"

Goosebumps makes all the little hairs of her neck rise.

Already, she can see it, writhing with her head caged between Audrey's thighs, lapping up the taste of her like it's more important than air. Would she let Laura up for little sips of air?

Or would she push her down, impatient, making Laura finish the job first?

Audrey's hands tighten around Laura's wrists. "You like that, huh?"

And then her hands are gone.

Before Laura even has time to be disappointed, though, she feels Audrey's hands close around her neck, her thumbs cross against her windpipe.

"Come on," says Audrey, "You want to hump my leg that bad, I'm not going to stop you."

"Yeah, well fu--" Laura chokes around the rest of her words as Audrey's hands tighten. Her throat spasms, her hands and toes going hot and cold at once.

It does nothing to stop her cunt from clenching sweetly, riding against the thigh Audrey presses between her legs.

It feels like everything unimportant just falls away, leaving nothing but the blood roaring in her ears, the white-hot pressure building low in her gut, Audrey's eyes flickering between Laura's mouth and the vice-like grip around her throat. God, she hopes it bruises. She's so close she can taste it.

Her vision's just starting to go grey around the edges when Audrey releases her hands.

The first gap of cold, sweet air is orgasmic.

It goes straight to her toes and back, pleasure crashing through her in waves, wiping everything away until she's nothing but the pure white noises between her ears.

"You're crazy, you know that?" says Audrey, still kneeling over her.

Laura tries to kiss her, but can only press her open mouth blindly somewhere in the vicinity of Audrey's cheek. Close enough to swallow Audrey's gasp as she comes.

* * *

The bruises are spectacular.

They take a week to fade, about as long as it takes the long, deep scratches down Audrey's forearms to turn pink and smooth.

Laura doesn't remember leaving them, but it doesn't stop her from licking them while she pinches Audrey's nipples until she rolls them both over, fingering Laura until she screams.

It's the most excitement they have for a while.

Robbie comes back from his trade show. There are no more hot tub incidents.

* * *

Sometimes when she's bored between hands of blackjack, Laura reads her own fortune. Her predecessor--some chick who called herself Celeste--taught her how with a pack of cards. Three of Swords, Seven of Cups, Two of Pentacles. The suits become mystical in the right hands.

Some middle manager with a bad suit and worse combover tosses sweaty twenties on her table.

"Cash in, a hundred," says Laura, and sweeps the cards back in her deck. She wonders if Celeste really did find her fortune.

* * *

Sometimes, Robbie sneaks through Laura's back door after Audrey leaves, or vice versa.

"Hey," says Audrey, on one such night.

Laura stretches, well fucked and pleasantly sore. "Hey, yourself."

The silence stretches long enough that she rolls over. Audrey looks wistful. She says, "You ever think about running away?"

Laura can't help it. She laughs.

* * *

But when she starts thinking about it, she can't stop.

It isn't robbing casinos, and it isn't listening to Audrey wonder about Robbie growing distant. But there's an undeniable thrill, just the same.

Laura's never left the great Hoosier state, but suddenly she's an expert on travel destinations.

The phone rings.

"You have a collect call from," a prerecorded messages says, "Woodward Federal Correctional Institution."

"Hi Puppy," she says, when the call connects. She's already raring to go. "Whatcha wearing?"

"Jesus, I'm in the phone booth," hisses Shadow.

"Doesn't mean I can't tell you about the new lingerie I bought. Made me think of you," says Laura. She refreshes the Groupon page for couple resorts. "Wanna guess if it came with panties?"

Shadow groans helplessly. "You tell me," he growls.

Laura gasps at the feel of the first finger inside her. They could go to the beach together, or just spend all day at the hotel. "There were," she confides, "But I thought they'd look better if you removed them with your teeth. So they're still in the box." One last fond memory before she gives it all up, Laura decides.

Before Shadow comes home.

She fingers herself as she talks, but it's the thought of Audrey fucking her against a floor-to-ceiling window in some faraway city that brings her to a shuddering, gasping peak.

"Hey," she says. Shadow grunts, having gone nonverbal a gratifyingly long time ago. "Audrey and I are having a girls' getaway this weekend."

Shadow coughs. "Have fun," he says, voice like gravel, "And tell me about it when you get back."

She laughs, because the alternative is worse.

* * *

She has to go, right? She's already promised Shadow.

* * *

It's the day before the trip, but Laura still needs to tell Audrey. What if she doesn't want to go? What if she hates Miami?

Robbie's car hums down the country lane, at exactly the speed limit.

 _I pulled into Nazareth just a feeling,_ croons the radio, _'bout a half past dead_.

"I'll leave Audrey," says Robbie, finally breaking the silence.

Laura has a terrible sense of deja vu.

* * *

After the blood is gone and she one-handedly wrestles an outfit into place, Laura goes to Audrey's house.

She needs needle and thread, and somewhere that isn't dusty and filled with police evidence bags, at least. There's a scrapbook on Audrey's crafting table, filled with pictures of Shadow, and Laura, and Shadow and Laura, like Audrey can glue their marriage back together with enough glitter. Laura smiles.

And then Audrey sees her and screams.

* * *

In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best idea. But words lie, and Laura is so very tired of lying.

Audrey sputters and wipes her mouth.

"Who do you think you're fooling?" she says. The foot of space that had suddenly appeared between them feels like a mile. "Is that how you do it? Just fuck everyone until you get what you want?"

Laura shrugs, off balanced. "I missed you."

"Sure, the same way you missed Robbie," says Audrey, darkly. "The same way you missed Shadow."

Laura opens her mouth to reply but Audrey cuts her off. "Actually, don't answer that. You probably do think you miss Shadow."

"I do," says Laura.

It's true. Under her breastbone is a sweet, sharp ache, pointing towards Shadow, burning bright than the sun. All the colors in the world have drained, except him. All the warmth.

It scares her, but she can no further resist his call than a paperclip can resist a magnet.

Audrey throws her out and she makes her way home, arm in hand.

She might not have access to a car, but she can plan ahead. Packing for the trip, she ignores whatever's scratching at the door.

Something barks.

Laura opens the door. A sleek, black dog sits on her welcome mat, studying her with suspiciously intelligent eyes.

"Another one?" says Laura, unimpressed. "Which one of you is it this time?"

"Do you not recognize me, Laura Moon?" says the dog.

A chill runs down Laura's spine.

"Because you," says the dog, morphing into a man. "I remember."

* * *

_Laura never understood why anyone thought high school was anything other than hell._

_There's a hush when she comes out of the stall to wash her hands in the only sink left, on the far side of the wall._

_One of them taps her shoulder. "Nice hair," she says, and then the Ashleys start giggling again. Preps, cheerleaders, whatever. Ashleys. Laura doesn't differentiate between them because Laura doesn't care._

_She's pushing open the bathroom door when one of them calls, "Wait!"_

_Tall, blonde, actually somewhat familiar now that she thinks of it._

_"You've got a, um--" and then blondie yanks a tail of toilet paper off the back of Laura's shirt._

_Laura pushes aside her bangs and says, "Thanks, uh..."_

_"Christ, you don't remember?" says blondie, and then laughs surprisingly awkwardly. "Audrey Thurston. You know, from History?"_

_"Oh, right," says Laura. The one with the jock boyfriend._

_The bell rings and students stream into the hallway._

_"Listen, we should hang out," says Audrey. She glares over her shoulder. "You've got lunch next, right?"_

_Laura says, "Um, yeah?"_

_They end up outside the Science stairwell, Audrey lighting up a Marlboro Lights. She looks like an advertisement, cheeks hollowed, cherry-red cigarette propped against equally red lips, between two elegant fingers._

_"Listen, don't listen to them," she says, after she blows a plume of smoke in the opposite direction, "They're just a bunch of stuck up bitches."_

_She offers the cigarette to Laura, a ring of lipstick lining the filter._

_It's worth it, even if Audrey laughs at the way she coughs._

* * *

Laura's body is stronger than it ever was in life, but her senses are all muted. March winds cut through her thin blouse as she walks bare-shouldered through the ditch at the side of the highway. She barely feels it.

A car pulls up next to her half a mile from Mishawaka. It's Audrey's. The window rolls down.

"Get in," is all she says.

They ride, only the sound of the engine and other cars rushing by breaking the silence.

"So," says Laura, when she can't take any more quiet.

"Dolled up to see your husband?" says Audrey, then clicks her mouth shut.

Laura doesn't have an answer.

Andrey says, cyanide-sweet, "I'm glad. Maybe now he'll get to see what type of bitch you are."

"I do feel terrible," says Laura. It feels like she says nothing else.

"Yeah, well, not as terrible as I did when I found out my best friend booked me a couple's getaway weekend in Miami."

Laura's hands tighten in her lap.

Audrey says, "Imagine my surprise, when they email me a day after the funeral, asking how my trip was."

"I can explain," says Laura.

Audrey says, "Great."

They pass a dump truck, nearly rattling itself apart at high speed. Laura says, "I was thinking about what you said."

"I said a lot of things," says Audrey, "Mainly things I regret in light of your lies."

Laura takes a deep breath. "I was thinking about what you said about running away."

The car hits a pothole. Audrey's knuckles are bone-white around the steering wheel. Laura licks her lips and continues, "I was thinking about running away and starting a new life. Away from all--all the bullshit that goes on in Eagle Point."

Audrey makes a noise that could be a laugh. "And that kind of bullshit doesn't happen anywhere else on Earth?" she says, bitterly.

"Different kinds of bullshit," says Laura, forging on ahead. "Bullshit that we make."

Audrey slams on the brakes, swerving onto the shoulder. A honk distorts in pitch as it wails by. "What," she says, softly, "Are you talking about?"

Her eyes are terrible. Laura can't look away.

"I'm not lying," says Laura, "Please, you have to believe me."

Cars pass them, zooming by, dozens of lives cloistered away in their own self-contained bubble. Slowly, Audrey's hands loosen from their death grips on the steering wheel.

She takes a deep breath, and then, surprisingly calm, she says, "You could have told me all of that before I yelled at a couple customer service reps."

Laura offers Audrey the best smile she can manage. She reaches out a hand, settling it on Audrey's knee.

Audrey flinches, violently.

* * *

They keep driving West, towards that terrible golden light. The silence isn't as bad now, better than airing out terrible truths.

But Laura's never dealt well with boredom.

"Fuck, check the back seat," says Audrey, finally snapping. "I swear I'm dealing with a two-year-old."

There's a newspaper, folded into eighths. The top section is divided into short sections, like wanted ads, or--"Wait, is that my obituary?"

* * *

Indiana whirls by, small town after small town.

"What do you think they talk about? The folks of--" Laura squints at the nearest sign. "Holmesville, Indiana?"

"The same bullshit that anyone talks about," says Audrey. "The retirement funds that only exist in their dreams, the golden years of high school that never happened. The cars they drive in the shit-ugly colors they like." She rolls her eyes at the road.

They all look shades of grey to Laura. "Which one?" she says.

"Fuck, you can't see--huh," says Audrey, "You really can't see color?"

Laura shakes her head. Audrey says, "Huh. How'd you get dressed this morning?"

Like that, the tension lifts.

Laura smiles and says, "Dunno, the undertaker picked it out."

* * *

Audrey gets them a room at a motel, two Queens with a chaperone of a nightstand.

"Do you need to--you know what, I'll take first shower," says Audrey, and then disappears into the bathroom.

They'd shared showers, during their series of one-time things. Trading lazy kisses under the spray, taking up more water than if they'd showered separately.

"Fuck it," says Laura, and pours a bottle of water into the coffee maker. She switches it on.

Ten minutes later, after a swirl, swish (and a swallow for good measure), she pushes open the bathroom door.

"Hey, knock before you--" Audrey's protest gets swallowed up as Laura kisses her, stepping into the shower. There's a long, terrible moment where Audrey freezes, stiff and trembling all over.

But then she gives a sob and kisses back, tongue just as clever as it ever was. They kiss until Audrey's gasping and writhing, until steam fogs up the cramped bathroom.

"Fill up the tub," says Laura.

Audrey just looks dazed, eyes bright and mouth swollen. "Huh?"

Laura plugs up the drain, kissing her way down Audrey's body as the tub fills up, refamiliarizing herself. She kisses the mole on her rib, bites a trail down to her belly button, and then skips right down to sucking bruises into her tender thighs.

"You tease," groans Audrey, flicking the top of her head.

Laura laughs. "Lie down, at least."

Audrey's a sight, the swell her of her breasts and her spread knees rising above the water, her hair curling damp against her pale neck.

"Hey," says Laura, "Guess what I can do now?"

She dives underwater before Audrey answers, fitting herself in the V between Audrey's thighs. Her first lick makes her moan, chasing after the taste of Audrey.

Swiping her tongue through the folds, flirting the tip against her opening, Laura teases until Audrey grabs her by the back of her head and holds her in place.

Scalp stinging, Audrey steadily leaking against her firmly grinding tongue--how ironic is it that Laura had never felt so alive before she was dead? She sneaks a hand against her own clit, slippery and wet.

Audrey keens. The sound is weirdly distorted through the water. Laura wants to hear more. She barely gets her tongue inside before Audrey comes, thrashing and bucking, her knees clamped around Laura's head. She can only hang on for the ride, tongue pumping into her slick cunt the way Audrey likes it.

The tremors go on forever.

But before Laura can surface, for a morbid joke or just a kiss, Audrey's hand pushes her down again. Again, again. Laura moans. It comes out as a gush of water against Audrey's clit.

The hand tightens in her hair.

It becomes a feedback loop, Audrey pulling Laura where she needs her mouth, and Laura moaning at the treatment, at the instinct to come up for air and being denied it, being forced to service Audrey before her own needs.

Audrey is still twitching, but she doesn't shy away when Laura shoves three fingers in, too turned on to be gentle.

The fit is tight, but by the time Laura gets her to come again, sucking on Audrey's clit, she fits another one in, four fingers curling on every outstroke to press against her G-spot. Her scream reverberates against the tile walls.

Audrey's mostly asleep by the time Laura breaks the surface of the water. She doesn't turn away from Laura's kiss.

* * *

In the glow of Shadow's light, it's hard to see anything else.

Audrey looks fine the next morning. But then again, she's backlit against that supernatural glow. 

"He's close, isn't he?" says Audrey, without any particular inflection. Laura blinks at her.

"You've got that--" Audrey gestures at her own face. "--look about your face."

Laura raises her eyebrows. "Well, not so close that we can't get breakfast."

Audrey orders a breakfast sandwich and a water.

Laura orders a coffee. For once, she has a million things on her mind, and no way to voice them. She tries to remember the exact shade of Audrey's hair. It seemed so long ago that it had occupied a large portion of her daydreams.

"Penny for your thoughts," says Audrey.

Laura takes a sip of coffee and kisses Audrey.

Audrey makes a noise of surprise, but Laura swallows it, chasing after it with her tongue. It takes Audrey a long moment to relax, and an even longer one before she kisses back. Long enough that Laura's mouth starts to cool.

She pulls back for another sip of coffee.

Audrey chases after her mouth for a moment, but then scowls. "What was that?"

Laura shrugs. It's early enough that the only other customers are two college students buried in their respective computers. She tilts her head up for a kiss.

Audrey grants her one, and then another.

"You wanna take this on the road?" she says.

"Way ahead of you," says Laura, and snaps the to-go lid back on her coffee.

Audrey rolls her eyes, but pops the rest of the sandwich in her mouth and follows.

Shadow, unlike the sun, does not rise or set. But at least the sun has the common decency not to go against the expected order of things. There's a breathless moment where Laura's entire world goes golden, and then the light recedes, the sun setting in the east.

"Oof." Audrey, a step behind, bumps into Laura. "What's the hold up?"

Realization dawns on Audrey's face before Laura can find the words to explain herself. The humor slides right off her face. She says, dully. "Where's your Prince Charming now?"

They chase him ever eastward, so close that the entire dash is bathed in gold.

"You think he's heading back to Eagle Point?" says Laura.

Audrey's lips pinch.

* * *

Everything will be fine. Laura smooths out her gold dress, and carefully slips it on.

And then the world goes to shit, as it always does.

* * *

On the border of Ohio, Salim-not-Salim lays down a prayer mat.

"God is great," he says, but Laura's not looking at him anymore.

At the edge of the corn fields, on the shoulder of the one-laned country road, is a familiar car with an even more familiar figure leaning against it, smoking.

"Life is great," she replies.

And then she turns and starts walking towards her.


End file.
